Strength
by Seulement Alors
Summary: "Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go." To save Tony, Steve takes this literally.


Hi everyone,

It's been a while...and I have forgotten how to write. This is an attempt to get back into it. :D

I don't own any rights to the characters, or make any money off of the adventures I put them through. Copyright of the characters is to Marvel and Disney.

 **Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go**

 **\- Hermann Hesse**

Strength 

"Always explosions," he said to himself aloud.

The explosion shouldn't have been a surprise, and it wasn't really Tony thought, as the two of them fought their way out of the collapsing building.

They were investigating what had looked like a Hydra base in Maine, hidden away in the mountains when the explosion rang out. " _It could have been worse",_ Tony thought. Bruce was still in the Quinjet, ready to come down if necessary, Natasha and Clint were at the entrance, checking parameters with Thor, while Steve and himself went deeper inside; less chance of people being injured if less people went in initially.

What had surprised him was the sheer power of this explosion. The Hydra operatives had been expecting them.

He was flying beside Steve, as the super soldier ran down the hallway, strong legs acting like pistons to propel him faster and faster towards any exit they could find. Trying to reach the spies outside on his comms, Tony couldn't hear anything over the roaring of the flames.

A hand shot out of the smoke and pulled him to the right and down another hallway just as the pathway they were on exploded into nothing.

Looking down at Steve, who was running and still hanging onto Tony's gauntlet he looked like he knew exactly where he was going. And there, up ahead, Tony could see the outline of a door that would lead to outside the building.

As they continued to race towards the exit, Tony could see Steve shouting, but couldn't hear him and then the world around them exploded.

Almost as if in slow motion, Tony could see Steve's body thrown into the wall opposite him, his arm and shoulder taking most of the hit and falling to the floor. Steve immediately tried to get back to his feet while the world around him continued to uproot itself.

Pieces of concrete were smashing into Tony's helmet as he wrapped his body around Steve's as another explosion rang out. The heat was unbearable, even in the suit, and Tony could only imagine how Steve felt.

With one arm wrapped around Steve's waist and another around his head, pushing it as close to his chest plate as he could, the concussive force of the blast threw their bodies out of the base.

As their bodies were thrown to the edge of the cliff the base was set on, Tony managed to get a hand around a jut of granite. The jerk on his arm as he stopped his and Steve's momentum down the cliff face was intense and he yelled, barley hearing it over the ringing in his ears. Scrabbling to keep his hold on his teammate, Tony looked down at Steve, hanging over the cliff, his body swinging with residual momentum.

Sucking in a sobbing breath as his shoulder screamed in protest to the weight it was bearing, Tony took stock. Currently stuck in a dead Iron Man suit and trying to access Friday which so far resulted in no success, and realizing the explosion had fried his comms, Tony knew then that their situation had indeed, gotten worse.

"Shit!"

* * *

"Steve, don't."

Clear, blue eyes looked up at Tony, startling in their intensity as they shone from a face covered in soot, and ash and splattered with blood.

"Don't, I said do fucking not, Steve!" And while Steve said nothing in response, determination and finality was all that Tony saw. He attempted to tighten his grip on Steve's hand, but his suit was down and Friday was offline, and with the weight of the suit, and the weight of holding them both over the edge, Tony was slipping.

"They're almost here," he said, strain and anger at his own physical limitations making his voice sharp, "they are almost here."

"Tony," Steve said, not in a whisper, not in a strained voice, but casual as if he'd come to some decision and was fine with it, "it'll be fine."

"Stop, I don't want to fucking hear it Steve." His arm was hurting, his shoulders screaming at the pressure of holding himself and Steve from a one hundred and thirty foot drop below them into nothing.

 _'_ _Well, not nothing,'_ he corrected himself, _'rocks and trees and rivers and other hard things that wouldn't ensure a soft landing. Might as well have been a bed of spikes.'_

"Steve, I need you," Tony said, struggling, sweat pouring off of him in the suit, "to grab my hand higher, I feel you slipping."

There was movement from Steve, his body swaying side to side, then nothing. Looking Tony in the eyes, Steve said, "I can't." While his body swung in the open air supported only by a stubborn engineer, his other arm dangled useless by his side, clearly broken from their earlier tumble, "I can't lift it."

His precarious grip on his teammate's hand was slipping and he couldn't readjust. He was panicking and he knew it. "Steve, grab my fucking hand right now!"

"Tony," he said it in his Captain America voice; strong, low and confident, "it'll be fine."

"Steven Rogers, if you let go, I will bring you back from the dead and kill you myself." His voice was high-pitched and Tony could feel his pulse pounding in his chest.

It hurt.

He felt like vomiting.

He felt like screaming.

"The others are coming, a couple minutes, most."

Their hands slipped a little more, neither able to re-grip.

With his mask still on, Tony knew Steve couldn't see his face, but knew he could hear the tears in his voice when he gasped, "please Steve, a couple of minutes."

Steve, with blood dripping down his uniform, and his blonde hair and stupid perfect teeth, opened his mouth to say something, but their tenacious grip was severed.

And Steve fell.

* * *

Tony could hear voices yelling for both Steve and himself, so he had yelled back. He couldn't feel his shoulder anymore and his voice was hoarse from screaming.

Screaming for somebody to come, screaming for Steve, screaming because it was all he could do.

When the rest of the Avengers had arrived, Thor had grabbed Tony's hand that was wrapped around the granite and heaved his body over the edge.

"Where's Steve?"

"Where is the Captain?"

"Tony, where is Steve?"

* * *

They couldn't find his body.

They managed to get to the bottom of the ravine and were split up looking for Steve.

 _"_ _Looking for his body or whatever would be left of it."_ Tony thought. The others hadn't wanted him to come down and help, but he had refused to go back to the Quinjet. He would help find Steve.

In the end it was Clint that found him. His body curled next to a tree with scattered branches around him. Clint's hand was already at his neck checking for a pulse by the time the rest of them had run over.

"He's got a pulse!"

* * *

One thirty-six hour sleep, an additional forty-eight hour observation period and one transfer to the Avenger's Tower, Steve was lounging in the common room watching Star Trek: The Original Series, with a blanket tucked around him and Sam sitting with him.

Moving quietly, Tony walked up to the back of the couch and places his hands down, "Next Gen is way better."

"For some reason, I prefer the originals." Tony could see Steve's lips curling in a small smile, and Sam snorted.

"I'm grabbing a beer, do you guys want anything?" Sam said as he stood and stretched.

"Tea, please," Steve said from his cocoon.

Tony immediately sniped, "old man." Steve just raised his eyebrow and Sam shook his head and left.

Sprawling in the recliner across the room, and pretending to watch the show, Tony studied Steve. His face was a myriad of bruises and cuts that hadn't quite finished healing. His one arm was in a sling and strapped to his chest. Without seeing Tony knew that his ribs were bound under his shirt and his leg was sitting snugly in a boot cast, where his foot had been caught between two branches during his fall.

Tony couldn't describe the feeling of seeing Steve whole and _mostly_ well.

"Steve…" Tony tried to start buy Steve just spoke over him.

"Told you it'd be fine", he said almost smugly, and he raised his eyes over to at look Tony directly.

 _Could Captain America be smug?_

All the arguments that Tony had, born by worry and anger died, so instead he said,

"Do that to me again Steve and I will throw you over the ledge my own goddamn self."

"Language," Steve said, and just smiled at him, his full Steve Roger's smile; with his too perfect teeth, perfect hair and stupid perfect face, "Thank you Tony."

* * *

Okay, I tried.

Please R&R. Hopefully will update soon.


End file.
